rare is the fire that never burns
by theorangedevice
Summary: A powerful cartel. A police force determined to stop them. And a third player who can destroy them all. C/P mob AU.
1. Chapter 1

_C/P mob AU, complete with an all lowercase, aesthetic title that may or may not have anything to do with the story._

 _This chapter is a Snowball for Clover. Hopefully I'll be able to write more chapters for more snowballs before the deadline. If not, I'll probably still finish it and squeeze everyone in somehow or another._

* * *

 **Part 1 - Opening Gambit**

 **The Docks, 3am**

The air was cold as ice cream, but not nearly as pleasant to swallow. Clover breathed out icy puffs and stomped her boots into the snow to keep warm. How did she ever land in a place like this, she wondered. Once upon a time she was a good kid. Respected by her teachers, admired by her classmates, adored by her parents and friends. Marching band, chess team. Hell, she was even on the honor roll.

But all that was before The Professor set up shop in their quaint little town, pushing her product without compunction or remorse, and the whole community went plunging down the tubes. These days you couldn't go two blocks without running into some emaciated cookie-head, strung out on thin mints or samoas.

Hadn't she tried to stay on the right side of the tracks? Clover had deluded herself that she could stand close to the fire without getting burned. But one little nibble of those sweet pastries and there was no going back. Now she was in up to her elbows in the deadly trade, taking whatever orders The Professor handed down in hopes of another fix. As she rubbed her frozen fingers she knew nothing would ever soothe her stinging skin, or her stinging conscience.

Clover sniffed and bunched up her nose. "It's ten degrees outside and still smells like mildew."

"I love the smell," Belle, her partner, enthused. Belle enthused about everything. "I love the salt spray and the seagulls pooping everywhere, I love everything about this place!"

"Shut your traps, both of you." The Professor, face hidden within the folds of her trench coat, pointed to a deserted loading zone. "They unpacked the crates over there. There should be nine of them – half do-si-dos, half tagalongs."

Clover's brow creased. "But that's…."

"Are you questioning my arithmetic?"

"No, ma'am." No one ever questioned The Professor. Rumor had it she never even used a calculator.

The snow crunched under Clover's boots as she marched to the first crate. She pried open the lid. "Empty!" Only drifts of lonely sawdust remained.

"What do you mean by 'empty?'"

"I mean they're empty, boss! Nothing's inside!" Clover pried off the lid of the second crate. Then the third. The fourth. "They're all empty!"

Belle bent her body in half to inspect the sides of the crate. "These crates are fabulous! Such solid construction! But I can't figure out why they've all been marked with the letter 'N.'"

"Stop looking at it sideways." The Professor's face was unreadable. But a thin trace of nascent fear crept into her voice that made Clover shiver. "It's not an 'N.' It's a 'Z.'"

"What does it mean?" Clover asked.

The Professor turned her back to the henchwomen. She shoved her hands deep into her pockets, face upturned to the quiet, starry night as she began ambling towards their idling van. "It's a calling card." Nothing else was said on the matter, though Clover thought she heard a butterfly whisper on the wind: _Have you finally come in from the dark, Zoey? Have you finally come back to play?_


	2. Chapter 2

**Part 2 - The New Recruit**

 **Police Plaza, 6am**

Hazards burst through the double doors with a heart uncaged. Indeed, getting to this epoch in her life had been a brutal, uphill battle. First the resistance of her parents. "Become an English teacher!" Then the pleas of her guidance counselors. "Or at the very least a poetry-writing barista. Something sensible!"

But none of those tame occupations could satiate her thirst for justice, one that could not be quenched by simply giving out detention slips or spitting into a rude customer's drink.

And so, like Hamlet flirting with insanity, she edged in closer to the papers shuffling, handcuffs clinking, keyboards clacking; the curses ("The #%$# glitch is back!"), the shouts ("Rebecca's made another collar!"), and the overwhelming stench of coffee breath lurking wherever she went.

It was paradise, and Hazards breathed it all in with relish. "Methinks nothing dost smelleth as sweet as the vernal bud, nor a brave police precinct in the morn."

Jo looked up from her computer screen, an eyebrow heavily quirked. "I'm sorry, what?"

"Forsooth, thou doth agree!" She stuck out her hand. "Thou mayest call me Hazards, and together shalt not we beshrew the false knaves yet plaguing our gentle palace?"

Instead of beshrewing, Jo shoved a mug of cold coffee into the outstretched hand and returned her attention to the ever-blinking cursor. "Just get me some more coffee, newbie."

* * *

Hazards had just finished spitting into the fresh cup of brew when a soft finger tap-tapped her shoulder.

She turned around and was greeted by a warm, sheepish smile. "I see you're new here. We've got a lot of challenges and contests and games going on around the precinct, not to mention the regular criminal-catching, so hop right in!" She clasped her hands together. "And I'm ever so sorry about Jo. Normally, we're a friendly bunch, but she's upset that we totally blew a stake out last night. And even on her best days, Jo can be…."

"Peradventure, an arrant cur?"

"…I was going to say blunt." She extended her hand. "Anyway, I'm Zero, and welcome to the CPPD!"

* * *

The Chief sat doodling on her pink stationery. "So. Jo and Zero. Zero and Jo. The dynamic, crime fighting duo who, once again, did no actual _fighting_." Her eyes became slits. "Care explaining why you you two haven't made an arrest yet?"

Jo crossed her arms. "There was no crime. All we've got on camera is a few girls kicking around some empty crates in the dead of night. Suspicious, sure. But criminal? Sorry chief, but it's not enough to book them, let alone hold up in court."

Chief April slammed her Lisa Frank notebook onto the table. "Don't tell me that's the best you have to offer! I've got the ADA, the COD, the PC, and the WXYZ breathing down my neck! This Professor character has been pushing out product faster than a free vending machine stocked with funfetti, not to mention she's recruited just about all of our top math students." Her fist came down onto the desk like a gavel. "Our academic decathlon scores have gone straight to hell!"

Zero clasped her hands. "I hear you, Chief, but we're working really hard and doing everything we possibly can, and –"

"No excuses, Zero! It's our responsibility to keep the streets of Caeser's Palace clean. So go out there, find something to pin on the Professor, and do it now!"

* * *

Hazards slid into an uncomfortable metal chair. "Verily, thy Chief art one to be afeard."

"You said it, newbie." Jo tapped her foot. "Alright, you heard the Chief. We need something on the Professor that's going to stick. I think it's time we took another run at our informant…"

Zero clasped her hands. "I don't know, Jo. She's given us everything we asked. I doubt she knows anymore."

"That's the problem with you, Zero. You trust everyone and get nowhere for your trouble. I know there's something that snake lady isn't telling us, and I intend to find out what it is." She tossed the keys to Hazards with a smile. "You coming, Newbie?"

Hazards smiled at the tinkling metal in her hand. _This_ was what she had worked her tail off for, and she had finally arrived. "Fain would I attend thee on thy noble quest!"

The trio blazed out the door.


	3. Chapter 3

**Part 3: Behind the Veil**

* * *

 **Abandoned Subway Station**

 **8 am**

The darkness was thick, heavy, a vein of ink winding through the subterranean depths of Caeser's Palace. Built when the Palace had just installed its first moat, two years ago Mayor Bea had declared the ancient subway tunnels a hazardous disaster zone.

"Unsafe, unhygienic, and a haven for Roos of an Unsual Size."

"Don't you mean 'Rodents of Unusual Size,' Madame Mayor?"

"I mean exactly what I said, you ignorant parasite."

The reporter paused. "But isn't Roo a rodent?"

"I have no idea what Roo is, that was before my time. Next question!"

Her peremptory press conference was a bid to force CP's City Council into allocating more funds to the transportation budget. But all it did was drive every respectable patron out of the tunnels, leaving behind the perfect lair for mutated reptiles and nefarious cookie cartels alike. And it was down one of those abandoned staircases that a pair of electric blue pumps echoed, their owner tired, perturbed, and in a hurry.

As a rule, the trench-coated figure known only as The Professor abhorred tardiness. But directly above Duck Pond Station sat an affordable boutique specializing in Disney Princess dress knock offs, and even the most sadistic of mob bosses were still human.

Besides, who didn't relish the feel of a sequined petticoat? Of course, The Professor's shopping predelictions were not common knowledge. Far from it. In fact, she mused while surveying the sea of underlings before her, there was little her cohort did know about the mysterious figure shrouded in a high quality blend of Burberry wool and cashmere.

Look at them. There was Misty, cartwheeling along the tracks with a knife in her teeth. And Maisie, making her paper dolls murder one another. So trusting. So oblivious.

What would they think, she wondered. What would they do, if they knew the truth about their mysterious Professor? That for all her mercilessness, she had never even made it past grad school?

She closed her trench coat tighter around her body. It was dark down here, damp, and hanging in the air was that peculiar combination of rat feces and guano. She couldn't lose her reputation now. It was all she had left, ever since the drop out, ever since –

"Ever since you betrayed me, Zoey."

The name faded from her lips. The Professor shook her head, shook the cobweb of memories away. No use dwelling on the past. Right now she had a future to worry about, an expanding illegal enterprise, and she wasn't going to let the old demons beat her once again.

"I think you all know why we're here," she said to the crowd. The commotion halted. Every face turned towards her, alert and pensive. "A shipment of product came in last night. When me and the girls went to pick it up, the crates were empty."

A gasp rippled through the crowd. The Professor raised an elegantly shod hand. "Settle down."

"Are those gloves lambskin, boss?"

"I'm a vegetarian, every fool knows that."

"Well, I didn't ask if you _ate_ the lamb. And besides, I thought sheep were the one exception –"

"Enough about my fashion choices!" Were they getting wise? The Professor cleared her throat. "Someone has swindled this organization - and more importantly, _me_ \- out of 30k worth of product." Did they even realize how many couture dresses that could buy her?

"Do you know who it was, boss?"

The Professor pursed her lips. Six crates branded with a "Z." There was only one person...

"I have my suspicions. The important thing now is figuring out how they knew the product would be at the docks this morning. I've done a lot of computing, and all the variables add up to one fact: there's a mole in our ranks." Shocked murmurs, sly glances of suspicion. The Professor removed a needle-sharp number two pencil from her pocket. "And I intend to find out who it is. By any means necessary."

"Oh no."

"Not algorithms…"

"I head she once gave an undergrad carpel tunnel..."

"...and then, after the tenth differential, he just dissapeared..."

"Yay, a scavenger hunt!" Belle's voice rang out. "What's the first clue, boss?"

"Look around you; only one of us is missing from my impromptu meeting tonight."

"Is it Stephan, boss?"

"No. He's on holiday."

"Poke?"

"Extended sabbatical."

"Che?"

"Her job includes a lot of traveling."

"Clover?"

"She just started highschool, give her a break."

"Tribs?"

"I think Tribs is here."

"I'm here, boss."

"See, she's here." She put her hands into her pockets. "No, I'm talking about someone else. I'm talking about ….the Snek Lady."

"Don't you mean 'Snake Lady', boss?

"I mean exactly what I said."

Belle paused. "But is a Snek a Snake?"

"I have no idea. That was before my time. Belle!"

"Yes boss!"

"It's time we put your special skills to good use. It's time you found the Snek and put the traitor down." She turned to fade back into the darkness, then stopped, looked over her shoulder, and said, "Oh, and take Danielle with you."

Danielle stood. "But why me, boss?"

The Professor flipped up her collar points, veiling her face, her thoughts, her dark and sordid past.

"Because no one ever suspects Canada."


	4. Chapter 4

_Apologizing in advance to Jo/Lils both for the butchering of Australian slang as well as weird anteater innuendo - but hey I had to fit the prompt in somewhere._

 _For C/P shipping week day three prompt: anteater_

* * *

 **Part 4 - Smoke without Fire**

 **Candy Cane Lane**

 **8: 30 am**

 _More coffee_. That was the thought pounding through Jo's mind as she squinted through the windshield of their unmarked car. _More coffee and less sunshine._

What good was all this blistering sunshine for, anyway? All it did was highlight the fading grandeur of Ceasar's Palace, all crumbling rooftops and innumerable potholes. What happened to this place? She had grown up here, had climbed the big trees and lapped at the moats filled with liquid chocolate. Once upon a time she had planned to plant down roots, stay until they interred her corpse in graveyard next to the cotton candy orchards.

But that was before the cartels began moving into town, ready to exploit the natural spun sugar preserves. Jo watched before her eyes as her idyllic fairyland childhood morphed into what it was today. Of course she wasn't ready to give up on CP. First day out of college, she signed up for the police academy. "I'm going to help clean this town up!" Get rid of the crime bosses running the streets and restore them to the people. Her people. The lawful citizens of CP who just wanted a moderately sized desert after dinner and a quiet place to call home.

She was an eager cadet. First one through the door, last one out. But then reality set in. The job wore her down. Familiar faces began to fade as they packed their bags and moved on to more savory pastures. Every time they took down some scumbag, whether Count Chocula from a few years ago or that Cookie Monster back in '03, another one rose up to fill the vacuum.

Jo gripped the steering wheel. What the hell was the point anymore?

Then the radio crackled to life, and Jo's hands relaxed. She even grinned.

This was the best part of her day.

"G'day officers," a grainy voice broke through. "It's Lil's here to give you a bit of drum. It's 0220 hours Down Under, and a fine cloudless night. Don't know what time it is for you Yanks, but I'm sure there's enough divvy vans within cooee to check out a B and E at the gumdrop factory on fourth."

Zero frowned. "Remind me again why we outsourced our dispatch to Australia?"

Jo shrugged. "The Palace has been a cesspool of thieves and cartels for how many years now? People are moving out of this gutter hole. The economy's gone to hell." She sighed. Maybe it was high time she also got out of dodge. She reached for the radio and replied, "10-4, Lils. And just so you know, it's 8:30 in the morning over here."

"Ta. You on your way to catch some brekkie, then?"

Jo laughed. "Well, since your dispatch, I guess we're on our way to catch some gumdrop thieves."

Zero grabbed the radio. "Actually, we can't. We're on another assignment."

Jo sighed. "Zero's right. The Chief gave us this case personally. Sorry Lils."

"No worries, Jo. I'm sure there's some other plodder who can handle it. She'll be apples."

"Tasty apples, I hope," Jo replied.

"Oh, my apples are always tasty."

"I bet they are."

Lils laughed. "You know, you're a fair dinkum mate, Jo. The ants pants."

"The ants pants, huh?" Jo smiled. "Guess that would that make you the anteater?"

She laughed again."If you say so. Though there's no anteaters here, I'm afraid."

"Really? I thought they lived down south."

"Not this far south. Never seen one in my life."

Zero grabbed the radio. "Listen Lils, it's been great fun and all, but we've got to go."

"Right then. Over and out."

Zero turned off the radio and turned to Jo. "Listen to you. Going on and on as if we're ever going to respond to any dispatch she gives." Zero shook her head. "Does she even know your not a patrol cop?"

Jo didn't seem to hear Zero. She stared dreamily out the window. "I'm gonna go there one day."

"Where? Dispatch?"

"Australia. And Lils.."

"But no anteaters."

"No." Jo frowned. "That was a disappointment. But mark my words, one day I'm gonna meet her."

Jo pulled over and parked on the curb along a row of small, stolid, cookie-cutter homes. "You put her in this dump?"

"Lamia asked for some place dark and unapproachable."

They opened the door. The curtains were drawn and Lamia was sleeping.

Jo kicked her feet off the couch. "Get up, Snake Lady. You've been holding out on us."

Lamia rubbed her eyes. "What are you talking about?"

"How many mice did we pay you as our CI? And then, when you go begging us to put you into witness protection, we agreed, no questions asked."

"Sure." She shrugged. "I was tired of all the socializing. Did you know The Professor has three mandated ice cream socials per week! A girl's got to get her alone time somehow."

Jo grabbed her shirt front and began shaking her down. "How did The Professor know about our stake out! Is there a mole in the department? Tell me!"

"Back off, Jo!" Zero yelled. "You don't need to be like this." She put a hand on Jo's shoulder.

Jo shook her off. "Leave the interrogating to me, Zero. This kind of thing isn't for you."

"Why? Because I follow the rules?"

"Because you don't have what it takes to get the job done!"

"Done bickering?" Lamia smirked. "Keep this up and I'll be publishing my one millionth fanfic by the end of the hour." She waved a hand. "Listen, you've got it all wrong. The Professor didn't know about your stake out. There's no mole."

"There has to be," Zero said. "The crates at the docks were empty. They moved the product because they knew we were coming."

Lamia smile. "Maybe those crates weren't empty because they knew you were coming. Maybe they were empty because someone got to the cookies before The Professor did. Maybe they're as confused and scrambling as you are." Lamia began threading her way through the living room and into the kitchen, where she poured herself a bowl of cereal. "There are rumors here and there. A third player."

"Who?" Jo asked.

She crunched down a bite. "I don't know everything. All that stuff is above my paygrade. But I can tell you the name of someone who does know."

"What name?"

Lamia opened her mouth just as the house erupted in flames.


	5. Smoke With Fire

_Chapter the fifth, in which I take potshots and Canada, Danielle, and sometimes both at the same time._

* * *

 **Smoke With Fire**

Fire was a funny thing.

It was formless, immaterial. Yet its presence was always felt. In that way, it was not altogether dissimilar to dreams, and for her whole life, Danielle had been pulled towards both of them, fire and dreams, dreams and fire. She couldn't have one without the other.

After all, she was from Canada.

What could she say about the freezing reaches of the North? There was no fire there. Only ice, and the dream of warmth.

That dream had been what brought her southward, to the candy-filled lane of Ceaser's Palace. And that dream had finally been fulfilled when she and Belle had poured gasoline around the perimeter of Lamia's safe house and Belle had gleefully set it ablaze.

For the first time, Danielle beheld the power of the flames, and as she watched the orange and yellow tongues twist and turn in their ephemeral dance, she finally understood why most people had a healthy respect for fire. They were afraid of it. Or in awe of it.

 _Or in love with it_. Danielle cast a furtive glance at her partner. Belle stood on the sidewalk, her face aglow as she bounced up and down, clapping her hands.

"I've always loved Christmas lights!"

Danielle frowned. "It's not Christmas, Belle. It's not even Winter!"

"It is in Australia."

There was no refuting that geographically correct logic. Danielle turned her face back to the blaze. "That should take care of the Snake Lady. We should head back to the lair." As much as she enjoyed elliptical contemplations in the dead of night, she had an AP exam on Friday and that English essay sure as hell wasn't going to write itself.

Belle blew a kiss to the conflagration. "Goodbye, my darling, my precious one. I know it'll be hard growing up without your mommy, but just remember to eat your fuel and oxygen like a good little fire, and immolate anyone who gets in your way."

"Stop treating the arson like it's your child."

Belle sighed, hand over her heart. "They're all my children."

The two turned and walked away, Danielle's mind buzzing. She could never quite stop the gears in her brain from grinding, and something just wasn't adding up. "I still don't get why Lamia turned rat. We fed her three mice a day!" It was simple arithmetic, really."

Belle shrugged. "Maybe the fuzz were feeding her four." She flicked her matchbox towards the fire with a sigh. "Won't be needing that for awhile."

Danielle watched it arc and land into the flames, and through the gloom she caught a flash of motion. "Wait." She held up her hand and peered closer. Three shadowy figures emerged from the smoky house. "Looks like Snake Lady made it out – along with a few others."

"More snakes?"

"No." Danielle observed their cheap yet professional attire, the holsters badly concealed beneath their jackets, and decided they must be a couple of plain clothes detectives. "It's the police."

"Are you sure?"

"Am I ever wrong?"

"There was that A minus three years ago."

A stab of fierce pain shot through Danielle's heart. "That was a low blow."

"It's the only kind of blow I know how to make. " She grinned and whipped out a wicked blade. "Guess we're doing this the hard way!"

The two charged forward, and as the two sides struggled, Lamia slithered away and fled into the night.

She had a Dragon to find.


End file.
